


Tumblr prompts

by wakanda



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:56:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7077880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakanda/pseuds/wakanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I recently had an urge to write and asked for prompts on my tumblr (chrisbeck), I'll be posting them here!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tumblr prompts

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: "morning cuddles and not wanting to get out of bed to save the world" by faesey on Tumblr!

Bucky’s new arm has a few upgrades over the old one, but Bucky’s favorite tweak has to be the heightened sensitivity in his hand. The Hydra arm was quite advanced in that department, but there was always something fundamentally mechanical in his sense of touch. 

Not anymore though. Bucky distinctly remembers the first time he touched something with it, the concerned look on Steve’s face as he started tearing up. He’d reached for Steve’s hand on instinct, a startled, raspy “I can feel you” falling from Bucky’s lips as his fingers travelled over Steve’s forearm. It’d been over seven decades since using his left hand felt human, and the last thing it had touched was an ice cold metal bar. It felt like closure, somehow, to get that human touch back and do something positive with it.

Bucky starts appreciating it all over again early in the morning, with Steve asleep on his chest, Bucky’s fingers exploring the skin on his back. Stirring, Steve grunts softly and nuzzles closer, his blonde hair tickling Bucky’s chin.

“Hey.” Bucky says softly as Steve slides a hand down his side, resting it on Bucky’s hip.

Steve hums. “Time is it?”

Bucky blindly reaches for his phone, the screen lighting up to say he has a text from Natasha. Maybe later, he thinks, perfectly content in his early morning bubble with Steve. “0700, Captain. Rise and shine.”

Steve nudges his knee between Bucky’s thighs and leans up on his elbow. Steve’s eyes are still only half open, and this close, Bucky can count his impossibly long eyelashes. “How long’ve you been awake?” Steve asks, a routine question. 

“’bout an hour, I think.” Bucky says, trailing his fingers down Steve’s chest. “Nothing bad, punk.” he appends when a worried frown appears on Steve’s face. “Just couldn’t sleep anymore. No nightmares.”

Steve seems to weigh that answer, until finally his face relaxes, smiling softly instead. Nightmares still make a regular appearance, these days, it got pretty ugly just three nights ago. It’s been a while since Steve’s had a turn, and Bucky’s getting worried, but he keeps it to himself for now. 

“If I dare you to kiss me, would you do it?” Bucky asks, smiling back at Steve.

Steve snorts. “I didn’t know it was 1934.”

The statement sparks a vague memory for Bucky, but can’t quite pinpoint exactly what it is. “We could pretend.” he says, shrugging.

“Works for me.” Steve says, and then he finally kisses Bucky. It’s soft and lazy, and Bucky thinks he could stay like this for hours.

That is, until his phone buzzes three times in quick succession, followed up by a ping! from Steve’s phone. 

Steve breaks the kiss and fumbles for his phone, reading the text out loud. “Tell Barnes I’m going to kick his ass. It’s from Natasha. What’ve you done between fucking me last night and now?”

Bucky groans. “Nothing.” he says, finally opening his texts. They’re all from Natasha, the first one over an hour ago. ‘Alien situation. Gear up.’ it reads. Then the other three: ‘Answer me!!!!’, ‘Stop fucking Steve the world is in danger.’, and ‘We’re leaving in 20, asshole.’

Steve is still throwing him a questioning look, and Bucky sighs. He’d really hoped to stay in bed for at least another hour. “How long do you need to gear up?” he asks, after letting Natasha know they’ll be ready.

Steve makes a noise that comes strikingly close to a whine. “No.” he says, rolling onto his back and pulling Bucky on top of him.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Bucky says, “I only need 5 minutes, which gives us 15 to keep doing this.”

A few seconds pass, and then Steve winds his hands around Bucky’s waist and leans up to kiss his jaw. “What’re we looking at?”

“Aliens, apparently.” Bucky replies rather defiantly. He slides down a bit to kiss Steve’s chest, praying this situation will somehow resolve itself within the next 5 minutes. He really loves helping out and being the hero for a change, but international crises always present themselves at the most inconvenient times.

“I hate this job.” Steve complains, twining his fingers into Bucky’s hair and tugging softly. Before he can catch himself, Bucky moans a little. Having his hair played with and tugged on is one of his favorite things, although he’ll never say it out loud. It’s not as if Steve doesn’t know anyway.

“No, you don’t.” Bucky says to Steve’s chest. “You love it.”

“Yeah, well, I love you more.” Steve says with a hint of stubbornness. 

His sheer determination to stay in bed and ignore this mission makes Bucky snort, especially given Steve’s complete inability to stay home when the world is in danger, even when he’s specifically told to wait until he’s called in. 

“Right back at’cha.” Bucky smiles. “C’mon, we got 10 minutes. Better make the most of it.” To stress his point, he rolls them so they’re on their sides facing each other, and crowds in close, pressing their mouths together again.

“Yeah.” Steve says against his lips. “Yeah, works for me.”


End file.
